In a Million Years is the debut album from Brisbane indie sweethearts Last Dinosaurs, which sees the band display their virtuosity in creating upbeat, indie-bliss, art-rock songs, backed by some seriously deft instrumentation. The ethos of this thing meanders between the sad, angry, content and sheer jubilant, really showcasing the insidiously powerful nature of the bands artistry; Last Dinosaurs aren’t just some qausi-hipsters fulminating over how the frame of their faux-Ray Bans broke at their favourite vegan cafe. ‘Zoom’, the bands leading single and poster boy song is an irresistible foot-tapper, upheld by a pulsating bass in synch with some beefy drums creating some uncoined form of dance-punk. In a similar vain is ‘Andy’: sporadic beats amalgamated with tropical synths and guitars echoing throughout. The band seems to possess his knack ability to resonate a sound so eclectic, yet so suitable and fit to their our own style. Having said this however. the album does have its foibles. At times, the lyricism skirts shakily on the divide of melodramatic and sincere amid the gargantuan wall of sound that is ever present. It seems to be more so an issue of delivery than content, as when one listens closely, the poeticism is there, but as mentioned, it is drowned out and almost delegitimized by the jocular nature of the music, along with Sean’s youthful voice. But such minor issues don’t deter from the sheer brilliance of this group. In a Million Years offers the audience a myriad of earworm songs, whose trenchant and reinvigorating sound promises a bright future for Australian independent music in general. It’s a remarkable album really; rarely do we here something that can remind us of every single pop song we’ve ever loved, without ever stroking a selfsame note.

8.5/10